Nelson Denoon, intellectual ideologue and founder of Tsau, an experimental women-only utopia in the Kalahari, has all the hallmarks of the thinking woman's crumpet. He is a man whose very dreams are "noetic", and, as such, is the infinitely worthy study of the novel's narrator, an American anthropologist in her 30s who gradually insinuates herself into his bed. She is a curious individual, with a freely acknowledged "pastime of questioning my own motives". The forensic scrutiny to which she subjects herself and her lover is tinged with neurosis, yet she also has a playful humour. Somewhat predictably, the shining edifice of Tsau begins to crumble and Denoon, illuminated by a newly found inner light, wafts around in white and descends into a state of abnegation. Exploring diametrical opposites on a personal, political and global scale, Rush's 1991 novel highlights the disjunction between ideals and realities. From bedroom politics to the exploitation of the developing world by the west, a chaos of misunderstanding is revealed. But what ultimately stands out is a quirkily acquisitive heroine compulsively collecting "new material to be integrated into the study of me".